


Just Breathe

by magicalgirldoe



Category: Alcatraz Series - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Panic Attacks, Post Book 5, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, Vague spoilers for Book 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalgirldoe/pseuds/magicalgirldoe
Summary: “Alcatraz, can you hear me? It’s Bastille. I’m here. Just breathe.”Bastille helps Alcatraz through a nightmare-induced flashback. Takes place after Book 5 (The Dark Talent). Originally written in 2017.
Relationships: Bastille Dartmoor/Alcatraz Smedry
Kudos: 16





	Just Breathe

It was 1 AM when Bastille snapped awake.

Normally, she would have resigned herself into going back to sleep. Crystallia had done almost too good a job of making her into a light sleeper, awoken by any noise, just in case it was someone attacking her charge. Now, most things that woke her up at night were false alarms.

The noise coming from the next room-the noise that had awoken her, she realized-seemed innocent enough at first. The sleeper in the other room thrashed about, clearly not sleeping soundly. It wouldn’t have been of her concern, had it not been for the sounds that followed.

From the other room came a few cries of fear, then short, ragged gasps. Bastille was on her feet and racing down the hall in seconds.

As she ran, she ran over in her mind the two scenarios that could possibly be happening. If someone was attacking, she was horribly under-equipped; she hadn’t bothered to grab her jacket, her sword, or even a dagger. It would be risky, especially if the offender had a weapon. She considered running back to her room and-

Before she could finish her thought, she had thrown open the door to the room. Her heart caught in her throat. No one was attacking; instead, it was an all-too-familiar alternative.

Alcatraz sat on his bed, with his legs pulled close to his chest and his head on his knees, as if he were trying to curl himself into a ball. His frame shook from how heavily he was hyperventilating, and it seemed that he wasn’t aware of any of his surroundings. He looked as though he was falling apart at the seams, breaking slowly and painfully.

Bastille took a deep breath. This had been going on for nearly two months, ever since they had returned from the Highbrary. Nightmares and panic attacks followed Alcatraz whenever he tried to sleep, so that he had become constantly exhausted during the day and constantly terrified at night. Even though this happened every night, it still pained her to see him like this. She just had to do what she had done last night, and the night before that, and hope that he would maybe get some sleep tonight. 

She slowly made her way across the room and sat on his bed, her hand next to his. She didn’t touch him-she would let him when he was ready. “Hey,” she whispered. “Alcatraz, can you hear me? It’s Bastille. I’m here. Just breathe.” She breathed deeply, in and out, in hopes that he would copy her.

As she sat with him, his breathing began to slow and he began to come back to the present. He raised his head off his knees and took her hand, giving her a small nod as he did. At that signal, she moved closer to him and guided him until he was lying on his side, his head resting in her lap. Her free hand began to play with his hair, gently messing with the already tangled bedhead.

They sat in silence like that until she spoke again. “Was it the same?”

The boy silently nodded.

“You’re safe, Alcatraz. It’s not here.” Her voice was quiet and level. Alcatraz didn’t respond.

Bastille continued to silently run her fingers through his hair. The two of them stayed like that as the night continued to pass.

She wasn’t sure if he had fallen back asleep, but it seemed like he had calmed. She hoped that he could rest tonight; the experience was already painful enough once a night. After a while, she slowly rose, easing his head from her lap back onto the bed. It seemed like he was asleep, so she moved towards the door.

“Bastille?” Alcatraz’s voice was raw. “Can you….stay with me? Please?”

The pain in his voice sent a stab through her heart, and she turned back around without a second thought. “Sure.”

Alcatraz pulled the covers back and moved to the side as she got into bed. He pulled her close, resting his head close to her chest; she knew it was to listen to her heartbeat, which calmed him. She curled close around him, entwining one hand in his hair as she had before. He let out a sigh as he settled. “Goodnight, Bastille.”

“Goodnight, Alcatraz.”

They slept peacefully for the rest of the night.


End file.
